


Into Cézanne’s Arms [Remix]

by barbitone



Series: Merlin Fanfiction [9]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Art AU, Artist AU, Blow Jobs, Bottom Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Figure Drawing, First Time, M/M, Masturbation, Mistaken Identity, Modern Era, Porn With Plot, Professor!Merlin, Sort Of, Top Merlin, artist!Merlin, voyeurism kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-27
Updated: 2018-09-27
Packaged: 2019-07-17 16:57:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16099877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/barbitone/pseuds/barbitone
Summary: Merlin had no idea how it had come to this, he really didn’t. One minute he was lost in his work and then next he was- standing in front of a handsome naked stranger fumbling at the zip of his jeans, practically shaking as he pulled Merlin closer. What the fuck.A retelling ofInto Cézanne’s Armsfrom Merlin's POV - for first time readers I'd suggest starting with the originalSequel:Out of the Woods





	Into Cézanne’s Arms [Remix]

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Into Cézanne’s Arms](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16057025) by [barbitone](https://archiveofourown.org/users/barbitone/pseuds/barbitone). 



> This is [Into Cézanne’s Arms](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16057025) but from Merlin's POV. If you're reading this for the first time, I'd recommend going with the original. It makes a lot more sense from Arthur's POV first I think!
> 
> Inspired by [Moonflower999](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonflower999/pseuds/Moonflower999) \- hope you like it :)

“Shit, shit, shit, _shit_ ,” Merlin muttered, gripping the wheel of his truck so tightly his knuckles were white. He’d fucked up, he could barely believe how badly he’d fucked up. He was half an hour late, and his phone was dead, and there was no way Tristan had waited that long for him but dammit, he was still going to try. If it came down to it he could- pull references from the internet or something. He needed to get that painting _done_. Merlin groaned at the thought. It would be horrible, it would destroy the whole vibe, but he’d have to do _something_.

His heart sank as he pulled into the parking lot of the studio. It was empty. Of course it was. Tristan had left and Merlin was fucked. He stepped out of the car, slammed the door a little too hard behind him. But then- was he imagining it or was there a faint line of light coming from under the door? 

Holy shit. Maybe. Maybe-

He practically ran for it, cradling his briefcase to his chest. He fumbled with his card and then the door was open and he was stumbling in, shocked to see the light was on in the hall.

“Oh-” he said, looking up to see a man standing in the hallway, staring at him.

Holy shit. The man was easily the most beautiful person he’d ever seen. His eyes were impossibly blue, his gold hair was soft and tousled, pushed back from his face. His cheeks were a little flushed and his lips were plush and inviting, parted around a gasp.

“Uh,” Tristan said. 

“Oh thank god!” Merlin exclaimed, breaking out into a goofy smile. “I’m so glad you made it,” he said, juggling his briefcase over to his left hand so he could stick out his right for a handshake.

Tristan took his hand. His palm was warm and soft, fingers surprisingly strong wrapped around his.

“You’re practically saving my life, and here I am- late! I had a bit of car trouble, and I would have emailed but then my phone died- of course,” he was rambling, of course he was. He laughed nervously, trying to hide how flustered he was. “Anyway, I hope you haven’t been waiting long?”

“Uh- no?” Tristan said flatly. He was pissed. Of course he was. Merlin had kept him waiting here in this empty building for half an hour and he didn’t even know the wifi password, he’d just been wandering the hall with nothing but the charcoal drawings of Freya to look at.

“Great!” Merlin powered through. Maybe he could fix this. “Did I mention how glad I am that you made it? It’s amazing of you to come out on such short notice- but I’m rambling, aren’t I?” Why couldn’t he just shut his face? His mouth was a little dry as he stared.

Tristan was perfect, so fucking perfect, just Merlin’s type, too. He swallowed. Tristan was married, wasn’t he? Gwen had said- but when Merlin glanced at Tristan’s hand he didn’t see a ring, and that was odd, wasn’t it? Or was it? He didn’t know anymore. Maybe he’d forgot it, or maybe they were one of those gross couples that wore their rings on gold chains around their necks, so they’d be closer to their hearts or some other such sappy nonsense.

“Why don’t we head into my office,” he said, sure that his voice came out a bit strangled as he walked off down the hall without waiting for an answer. Tristan trailed after him slowly, waiting patiently as Merlin unlocked his office and turned a few lights on.

He made a beeline for the desk and put his phone to charge, feeling a little calmer now that he was on his home turf, back in his element. He sighed, taking in the room, glad that he’d left everything mostly set up for them.

Tristan was standing in the middle of the office, looking around with interest. Merlin didn’t miss the way his eyes fell to the window. He’d been meaning to put up some curtains but he never gotten around to it, something always seemed to come up. It didn’t really matter, but most models found themselves nervous about it, especially at night.

“No need to feel self-conscious about the window,” Merlin said as he looked through the cabinets for the scotch. He needed a drink after the night he’d had, and maybe if he plied Tristan with liquor the man would be in a better mood, would be more willing to come back despite Merlin’s gaffe. Because Merlin already knew, he needed Tristan to come back. He could tell he was perfect, even with his clothes still on. Even just the faintly upset little wrinkle over his nose was perfect, and the way his hair was reflecting the light- Merlin looked away, trying to suppress a blush. 

“It’s just the lake out there,” he said, trying to pull himself out of his thoughts. “It’s absolutely teeming with snapping turtles, and that’s enough to deter even the bravest skinny dippers. No one is out there this time of night.”

“Ok...” Tristan said, but he still seemed nervous. Hopefully a bit of whiskey would fix that.

“Ah- here it is!” Merlin pulled out a half empty bottle of scotch and two chipped mugs. “Looks like Gwen got into my stash,” he muttered with an ironic smile as he poured a generous helping into one of the mugs. He guessed it was only fair, the bottle had been a gift from her anyway. “Would you care for a drink?” he asked. 

“Sure,” Tristan said, smiling faintly.

Merlin handed him a mug of scotch and clanked his own against it before taking a sip. 

“Thank you,” Tristan said, a little more relaxed now. He’d done this before, hadn’t he? Maybe not. Merlin couldn’t seem to remember. Over email he’d seemed so self assured, but things were always different in person. Merlin tried to remind himself to be gentle with him, not to push. 

“Of course,” Merlin said, smiling. He had a feeling that any minute now Tristan would change his mind and leave, and he couldn’t allow that to happen, he really couldn’t. “I need to get changed, but in the meantime why don’t you make yourself comfortable, feel free to look around. I’ll be back in just a few minutes and then we can begin, Tristan.” 

He left before he could hear Tristan’s reply. He had to jog back out to his truck to get his duffle with his painting clothes then changed hurriedly in the bathroom, pulling on his favorite pair of ripped jeans, his black tank and soft red flannel. 

He came back into the office to see Tristan staring at the painting, smiled as he walked closer. 

“You see now why I can’t finish without you,” Merlin said and Tristan jumped, turning towards him. He seemed a little flushed, but maybe that was Merlin’s imagination.

“I was working with Mordred previously,” Merlin continued. “He was flighty at the best of times but then he had to go and get caught smoking weed in his room- he’s an RA!” he frowned and shook his head. “Anyway, he’s busy with his court mandated community service now and left me completely in the lurch. If I don’t finish in the next few weeks I won’t be able to submit by the deadline and there goes my grant. And with Uther threatening to slash the art program, there goes the funding for the whole course.”

He was rambling again, nervous at the prospect that soon Tristan would be nude in front of him and he’d have to keep it together and get _work_ done. He’d never been turned on by a model before, he was a professional and not some pervert, but this time he was seriously worried.

“That seems like a lot of pressure,” Tristan said slowly. He didn’t care, he was just here to do Gwen a favor and get paid fifty bucks and here Merlin was, blurting out his whole life story. Shit.

Merlin tried to smile and change the subject. “Well- no worries! Now you’re here.”

“Right. I’m here.” He probably wanted to get started, not waste any more time talking to Merlin. 

“Ready to get started?” Merlin asked.

“I- yeah,” Tristan said.

“Great! Now, if you wouldn’t mind stepping over here,” Merlin led him to the couch. “I just want to look at your angles,” he said as he raised his hand just shy of cupping Tristan’s chin. His eyes were so impossibly blue, so clear. His gaze seemed deep, bottomless as he looked into Merlin’s eyes. He wasn’t going to blush, he _wasn’t_. This was so not okay, but he could keep it together, he had to.

“Turn this way,” Merlin said quietly, moving his hand slightly, still not touching Tristan. He followed the motion, turning his head obediently.

“Normally I’d do a few sketches when starting with a new model, but I’m afraid I don’t have the time. It’s really a shame, though-” Merlin cut himself off, he’d almost said something totally inappropriate. He’d almost said- _because you’re beautiful_. He dropped his hand and stepped away. Was he blushing? He couldn’t tell. 

“You know, you’re a perfect fit for this piece,” he rambled and shit, that was just _you’re beautiful_ phrased differently and he plowed on, trying to roll it back. “Much more than Mordred was. Maybe that drug charge was a bit of luck in disguise,” he laughed nervously. What the hell was he saying? “For me, not for him. Sorry, bit of a bad joke.”

“I don’t mind,” Tristan said.

Merlin wasn’t quite sure he believed that as he brought a stool over to his canvas and picked out some brushes from the cans on his desk.

“If you’re ready, you can get undressed.” He was going for casual but he didn't think he was succeeding.

“Professor-” Tristan said.

Merlin winced at the awkward formality of it all. “Please, call me Merlin,” he interrupted. Hadn’t he mentioned that in their emails? But maybe Tristan had forgotten.

“Merlin. I-”

“Is something the matter?” Merlin asked. “Are you afraid you’ll get cold? Don’t worry, I’ve turned on the heater. It takes a minute to warm up but soon it’ll be nice and toasty in here.” He paused, concerned now. Every first-time male model was only worried about one thing- popping a boner. He could assure Tristan that it was unlikely to happen, and saying that was usually a surprisingly great way to break the tension, but something about him, about the trembling air in the room, held Merlin back. “Unless- is there something else?”

Tristan seemed a little flushed as he looked away. “I- um. Uh- no. Everything’s fine.”

“Great,” Merlin smiled. “You can set your clothes over there,” he pointed to a chair in the corner. It was probably the only spot free of drying paint in the entire room, a hard-won bit of cleanliness. 

“Ok,” Tristan said and walked over to the chair. Merlin looked away hastily as the man started getting undressed right in front of him. He’d meant for Tristan to go into the bathroom and come back in his robe, but this was- fine. This was fine. Merlin tried breathing deeply to calm himself down. Some models just- were fine with undressing in the room. It wasn’t totally weird.

It was, though. It was totally weird. Something about the actual process of getting undressed seemed so much more intimate than actually _being_ undressed but ok, he was fine. He was a professional, dammit, and Tristan was _married_.

Merlin distracted himself with the cassette player, rummaging through his box of tapes. His fingers settled over one in particular. His naughty tape. Shit. He knew how this was going to go, could tell already this painting was taking a sexier turn. Would this be totally inappropriate? But it was so right. It would fit so well. It’s not like the tape was totally randy, it was subtle enough not to be weird, wasn’t it?

“Any music preferences?” Merlin asked nervously, hoping Tristan would make the decision for him. 

“I’m fine with anything,” Tristan said. “You use _cassettes_?”

“We tried to get an i-thing in here a few times,” Merlin shrugged. “But they don’t seem to last very long with the paint and the turpentine and all the charcoal dust in the air. But good old Kilgharrah has been around longer than any of us, and he’s still running just fine.” Merlin patted the player fondly. He couldn’t quite seem to let go of the tape, didn’t see anything better. Fuck it, he thought before sliding it into the slot and hitting play.

He turned and ran his eyes down Tristan’s body, pausing a little at the briefs. Tristan had said he’d be fine with full nudity, but it was easy to be gung-ho over the impersonal wires of the internet. Real life was always inevitably different and Merlin wasn’t going to push. He wanted Tristan to feel good about this, _needed_ him to be willing to return.

“You’ve seen the painting,” Merlin said with a small reassuring smile, “so you know the general pose. Why don’t you go lie down and we’ll adjust from there.”

Tristan walked over to the couch and did his best to get settled.

“Oh wow, no,” Merlin said with a frown. “That won’t do at all. With your build-” _danger_ , Merlin Emrys, pull it back! “No. We’ll have to change the pose.” He squinted, holding up the end of his brush to check the placement of Tristan’s limbs. “Ok, just raise your left knee a bit- a bit more- no not like that. Ok, how about, your left arm, just- raise it a little past your head? No, like this,” he mimed the motion and Tristan tried to copy it, badly. “Um- that’s. Closer,” Merlin said, frowning.

Tristan sighed. “Just- come over here and put me where you want me,” he said and Merlin immediately flushed as he heard the words that had just come out of his mouth. 

 _What_?

If figure drawing had a list of laws, the first law would be Do Not Touch The Model. The title of the list would also be Do Not Touch The Model, but in bold red letters. The touch barrier was something sacred. No one crossed it, not until they knew each other well- though usually not even then, _definitely_ not on the first session. 

Tristan was staring off into the distance, impatient. Shit. Well if he didn’t mind, maybe it would be... fine?

“Uh. I mean- if you’re sure that’s ok?” Merlin asked timidly.

“I think otherwise we’ll be here all night,” Tristan muttered. 

“Ok,” Merlin said and walked over. Tristan sighed, looking away. Merlin licked his lips nervously, trying to keep his breathing even and not fuck this up. “Ok, I’m going to touch your left knee, now,” he said carefully. 

Tristan’s skin was so warm, so smooth, Merlin had to suppress a shiver at the easy way the man allowed himself to be maneuvered.  “Just- here,” Merlin said, moving Tristan’s knee up and out to lean against the back of the couch. “Ok, right knee now, set your foot on the ground-” Merlin ran his hands lightly down Tristan’s calf, pressing him gently into position. “Ok, right arm down to the ground too, here. Left arm,” Merlin said quietly, almost whispering. "Arch your back a little," he said, guiding him with light touches to his side before letting his fingers lift up Tristan's chin, "neck back like this- ok. Now just, thighs, here- open a little wider."

Finally Tristan was in position and Merlin stepped back. 

“Ok, let me see."

Merlin swallowed. Tristan reclined languidly on the couch like a king resting after returning from battle. The light painted his skin golden, threw the lean muscles of his chest in relief and highlighted the light blond hairs over his chest and legs until he was practically glittering all over. Everything about him seemed to shine, a sharp contrast to the dark velvet beneath him. Even the bright highly decorative brocade pillows seemed dull in comparison.

"Perfect. You really are-” he stopped himself. Breaking the touch barrier had fucked him up a little and he needed to stop, needed to roll this back into something professional again. “Just, don’t move while I get the tape.”

Tristan stayed completely still as Merlin pressed small strips of masking tape around his limbs, marking their spots. He was so good at this already, despite it being his first time, despite his obvious frustration with Merlin.

“Alright, this is going to be perfect,” Merlin said as he adjusted the lights and checked the heater “I don’t expect you to stay completely still, but just do the best you can, alright? You can move a little to scratch or take a drink- oh. Would you like another drink?”

“Yes, please,” Tristan said. Ok. Ok, that was something Merlin could do for him, at least. He glanced around wildly until he found the blonde’s mug on the table and moved to refill it, setting it down by Tristan’s hand once he was finished.

“No problem,” Merlin said. “Ok, I’m going to get started, but let me know if you need a break or anything else, alright?” 

“Sure,” Tristan said, watching through his eyelashes seductively as Merlin got settled on his stool. He really needed to get a grip. Tristan wasn’t being seductive, he was just looking at him like a normal human being would look at another normal human being. Everything was very normal. It was going to be fine.

Merlin exhaled sharply as he looked at his painting, looked back at Tristan laid out for him on the couch.

It was all wrong. He couldn’t paint this beautiful man in his death throes, that would be a fucking crime. Merlin stared at the shards of glass, at the blood. He’d broken a mirror, bad luck be damned, and rolled the carpet back to arrange the shards artfully on the ground in front of the couch. The concrete was still stained where he’d poured wine over it in an approximation of blood, all to get the lighting, the reflections, _just right._ But it wasn’t right anymore, it was terrible.

Reaching over to his palette knife with shaking fingers he slowly mixed up the perfect gray and then swiped it over the bottom painting, wincing a little as he covered up all his careful work. There. That was closer. He looked up again, running his eyes over Tristan’s fit sun-kissed body, and then set to work.

He lost himself for a time, working furiously. Tristan was watching him, the music was thudding through his bones and the whiskey was making him feel a little hot, a little loose. The work flowed out of him easily, leaving him shaken, impossibly focused. He felt like he was in some kind of fairytale, like the perfect muse had just been- handed down to him like a divine gift. 

He didn’t know how much time passed but he was startled as he glanced at the clock and dropped his brush loudly to his palette.

“Oh shit!” Merlin exclaimed. “I completely lost track of time, we skipped two of your breaks. Are you alright?”

“What?” Tristan asked a little groggily, looking over at him.

“It’s been about an hour and a half,” Merlin said apologetically. “You should probably stretch out a bit. Are you feeling alright?”  
  
“Yes,” Tristan said, sitting up slowly.

Merlin stood and went over to a cabinet to grab a fresh robe. “Here,” he said, handing it over. “I noticed you didn’t bring one of your own.”  
  
“Thanks,” Tristan said, standing shakily to put it on.

“Just shake it off, walk around a little,” Merlin suggested and went over to his desk. “Finally, almost a full charge now,” he muttered, looking through his phone. 

It was the same as usual, a bunch of junk mail from various art publications he was subscribed to, a few desperate emails from students asking for extensions. And then. Oh shit. Oh _shit_.

_Sorry Merlin,_

_I hate to do this to you, I know how strapped you are. Only- Isolde has gone into labor! We’re rushing to the hospital now, I know you’ll understand. We can pick another time, maybe next week? Don’t know what my schedule will be like with the baby, but we’ll talk soon._

_Best,_

_Tristan_

Oh. Shit.

Merlin tensed, tried to not show that he’d tensed. Who the fuck had he been painting for the past hour and a half, then? His blood was rushing loud through his ears, his heart thudding in his chest. He’d just- bullied some random stranger into posing for him, and what the hell was he even doing in here on a friday night? How had he even-

Ok. It was going to be ok. He probably wasn’t a thief or a murderer. He was too hot to be a thief or a murderer, wasn’t he? Merlin stifled a hysterical laugh. He felt a little better now for being totally into this stranger who definitely wasn’t a real figure model. Fuck, in retrospect it was so obvious.

“Anything important?” Not-Tristan asked and Merlin found himself faced with a terrible choice. He could say something. Or he could- he could just pretend he didn’t know. But that was crazy. Merlin should just tell the truth, bring it all out into the open. But Not-Tristan knew he was Not-Tristan, he’d known the whole time, obviously. Why hadn’t he said anything? Why had he just- gone along with taking his clothes off and staying still and silent for Merlin’s gaze? Was he some kind of opportunistic pervert?

Merlin looked up, staring at the impossibly beautiful man in front of him.

So some ridiculous stranger had wandered in here, had let himself be roped into a figure drawing session. So what? It's not like Merlin was holding a gun to his head, he could leave any time he wanted, but he hadn't. And- he was perfect. And the painting was going so well. He couldn’t just- _stop_ , couldn’t bear to ruin whatever magical thing was happening here, the perfect model that had just been dropped into his lap.

“Not really,” Merlin said at last with a careful smile. “Just a few students asking for extensions on their final projects but joke’s on them- I’m not easy like that.”

Not-Tristan laughed, the sound warm and rich in the suddenly stifling room. 

Fuck. Merlin refilled his mug with whiskey and brought it back to his table. What the fuck was he doing?

“Let me know when you’re ready to start again,” he said mildly, running his eyes down the man’s body.

“I’m ready."

“Alright,” Merlin said, screaming internally. “Then for the last hour,” he found himself saying as if someone else had suddenly taken control of his mouth, “you can take off your briefs.” 

“Oh- um-” Not-Tristan stuttered, flushing. “Ok,” he said at last and went back to the chair. He seemed to pause a little and Merlin wondered if he was about to change his mind, but then he threw off the robe and pulled down his briefs, dropping them with the rest of his clothes.

Holy shit. His ass was- perfect. And then he turned around, and- Merlin swallowed. He was sure the sound carried through the room but the other man didn’t seem to react, went back to the couch confidently and settled back into his pose. He definitely seemed flushed now, and that was- fuck. Perfect. 

Merlin turned his attention back to the canvas, working impossibly fast now, shaking a little as he wondered when this trembling moment would be shattered.

Not-Tristan seemed a little flustered, his hands twitching subtly and his knee jittering. He shifted his hips uncomfortably and Merlin’s eyes widened as he realized he was getting hard. Merlin paused, lips parted around a gasp as he couldn’t help watching, couldn’t help staring at Not-Tristan’s thick cock rising against his taut stomach. 

“I- I think I need to take a break,” Not-Tristan said, voice a little strangled as he tried to twist away.

“Of course, if you’d like.” Merlin didn’t recognize the tone of his own voice, panic rising through him. “But don’t feel like you need to hide away on my account.” 

What. _The fuck_.

What was he _saying_? He meant it, of course he did. He wanted to paint this man laid out flushed and aroused on his couch, of course he did, but what kind of perverted asshole was he, to admit as much out loud? 

Not-Tristan was staring at him darkly, running his gaze down Merlin’s body, and Merlin had to tighten his fingers over his brush or else he’d drop it for sure. He took a deep steadying breath, steeling himself for the rapidly approaching moment when the other man stood, gathered up his clothes, and accused him of being a pervert before storming out.

Not-Tristan didn’t storm out. Instead he lay back down, returning to his pose with his erection on full display. Merlin exhaled sharply through his nose, his fingers trembling. Ok then. Ok. This was totally fine. Fine.

Merlin tried to go back to work but it was a struggle to drag his eyes away from Not-Tristan’s flushed skin, his twitching cock, the way his hands were flexing restlessly over the velvet blanket.

“Is it ok if I-” Not-Tristan asked. “Can I-”

It took Merlin a second to realize the stranger was asking for permission to _touch himself_ \- right there in front of him. Holy hell. Yes, fuck yes, it was ok, it was more than ok, it was everything Merlin had ever wanted and he’d never even known it until this secret dangerous moment.

Merlin wanted to scream _YES!_ but what he said instead was- “If you’d like,” impossibly cool and diplomatic. He stared as Not-Tristan exhaled sharply and brought his hand up to his cock, biting his lip to hold in a moan. Holy shit. This was definitely not professional but Merlin didn’t care. It didn’t matter if it wasn’t a real model, right?

God, but the stranger was so ridiculously hot, stroking himself firmly while Merlin watched. He was so hard, wanted to touch himself so badly. But he couldn’t, could he? Fuck.

Not-Tristan was trying to stay in his pose, Merlin could tell, and that was- oh god. The stranger was stroking himself but he was trying to please Merlin, too, trying to stay still for him. That was easily the hottest thing he’d ever seen. He shifted uncomfortably on his stool. Maybe if he just watched he could play this off as- he couldn’t though, he really couldn’t. Not-Tristan was flushed, his hips jerking up desperately into his hand. He was making small bit-off moans that went straight to Merlin’s dick and he couldn’t do it anymore, couldn’t just stay stoic in this insane moment. 

He brought his hand down to press against his erection, trying to relieve some of the pressure, and of course that was exactly when Not-Tristan looked up, catching  him. Fuck. 

Suddenly the blond was gasping and coming, arching his back so beautifully as he spilled all over his chest and abs. Merlin squeezed tighter and shut his eyes, breathing deeply. But then he opened his eyes and saw the most perfect thing he’d ever seen. Not-Tristan was sprawled out so beautifully, easy grace in every limb, in the way he was laid out, his hand cradling his cock and neck thrown back as he caught his breath.

He opened his eyes and looked over at Merlin, something like panic in his eyes as he twitched.

“No!” Merlin cried out. “Don’t move- just- stay like that, don’t move at all. You’re perfect the way you are.”

And surprisingly, Not-Tristan did just that. He fell back against the pillows, shaking a little before he stilled, relaxing against the couch.

Merlin turned back to the canvas, trying desperately to capture this moment before it inevitably dissipated and he was- arrested, probably.

He was getting fucking fired for this, wasn’t he. But in that moment he found he didn’t care. The only thing he cared about was putting paint on canvas, trying to capture the way the stranger blushed, the way the light haloed his hair.

He wasn’t sure how much time passed but arousal raged through him the whole way and he didn’t miss the part where the stranger started getting hard again, twitching a little and shifting, uncomfortable. This was- this was something Merlin had never imagined in his wildest fantasies and he licked his dry lips nervously. 

An alarm rang out and they both startled. Merlin jumped out of his seat and practically ran for his phone sitting on his desk. Reality crashed in on him like a train wreck. What the hell was he doing? 

He pulled a rag off his desk, wiping his hands nervously as he walked over to Not-Tristan, still sprawled out naked on the couch. He tried to think of what he was going to say. He was going to tell the truth, get it all out in the open. 

“I-” he started and broke off. Shit. Why was this so hard? “This isn’t really-” he said, not quite sure how he was going to finish that sentence. _This isn’t really how I usually do things? I don’t generally have models masturbate for me while I stare and rub my dick?_ Clearly none of those would be sufficient. He winced as he walked, his jeans rubbing uncomfortably against his painfully hard erection. Not-Tristan was sitting up and Merlin really had to say something soon. Ok, he could figure this out. He could-

But Not-Tristan was sinking his hand into Merlin’s waistband and tugging him closer, fumbling for his zip. Merlin was frozen for a minute, but then he dropped his hands carefully to the man’s magnificent shoulders, afraid to break the moment.

Not-Tristan pulled Merlin’s cock out of his pants, sucked him down greedily, groaning around him with enthusiasm. Merlin shook with shock, with pleasure, with impossible joy. God. This was-

The other man took hold of Merlin’s hips and set a punishing pace, so fast and deep. Merlin had to bite his lip to hold in his moans, couldn’t hold back a gasp. It was so good, too good. He was close, but he wanted- surely it was ok now to want? To ask?

He pulled back, running his thumb over the stranger’s spit-slick lips.

“Wait-” he said. “Do you want to keep going like this, or do you want me to fuck you?” 

He’d never been so bold, so daring, but he had a feeling this was his moment and he was going to grab life by the balls. He so wanted the stranger to say yes, and nearly swooned as he heard- 

“Yes. Yes, I want-”

Oh. Oh yeah. Merlin put his hand on Not-Tristan’s chest to push him back against the pillows, settled himself between his thighs. He rooted around in a nearby box and pulled out a small bottle of lube, handing it over. He was self conscious of his paint-stained hands over the man’s perfect thighs, felt almost afraid to touch him. He certainly couldn’t touch him inside, not before he washed the remnants of oil paint off his hands. But he couldn’t leave now, he knew that any pause would break this moment and then he’d be left alone and wanting.

“Get yourself ready for me,” he said at last, trying for a tone that was fun, easy. He wasn’t sure if he succeeded and was worried about the way the man tensed, exhaling sharply.

“So you’re just going to-” Not-Tristan managed in a strangled tone of voice, “just going to watch while I do all the work?” 

Merlin ran his hands down the man’s shaking thighs, realizing suddenly Not-Tristan was into this, into being watched, being ordered around. 

“Yeah,” he said, impossibly turned on, digging his fingers into his thighs. “I think you like it when I watch.”

The stranger shivered, throwing his head back. “Fuck- ok,” he gasped, pouring lube over his fingers and reaching down obediently to press inside himself while Merlin stared, shocked that this was really happening.

Fuck, but he was really _working_ himself, thrusting almost furiously, rushing like he couldn’t wait to have Merlin inside him. Merlin wished he could do this for him, feel him twitching and tensing around his fingers, but this would have to be good enough for now. The stranger was fully flushed, restless as he couldn’t seem to decide if he wanted to look at Merlin or not. 

Merlin dropped his hand to his cock poking out of his jeans, stroking himself firmly, trying to force himself to go slow and steady. If he came now, before getting himself inside Not-Tristan, he’d just have to jump off the balcony from the disappointment of it all.

“I'm ready,” Not-Tristan breathed out, almost like a whine that shot heat right through Merlin, making him gasp.

“Are you sure?” he asked, still not quite believing his luck.

“Please-” Not-Tristan gasped, pulling his fingers free. Merlin nearly dropped the condom as he tried to get it on his dick, but then he was ready and pulling closer to get himself inside. He inhaled sharply as he felt the first press of his dick pushing just inside the other man. Not-Tristan was shaking, struggling a little with the stretch and Merlin drew back.

“Here,” he said, pulling the man’s legs open wider, hooking his left knee over the back of the couch, pushing the other towards his chest.

Not-Tristan moaned, almost pained. 

“Easy,” Merlin murmured, trying to help him, get him to open up and just- let Merlin _in_. “Relax for me.”

He pushed in a little, trying to work himself inside, trembling as he fought to stay gentle, easy, no matter how much he wanted this.

“Oh, fuck,” the other man moaned, letting his head fall back as he surrendered against him. And that was it, that was better. It was easier now, Merlin wasn’t quite as worried about hurting him as he felt his body relax a little, felt the tight grip around his cock ease up just a bit.

“That’s it,” he whispered encouragingly and the other man moaned, shutting his eyes.

Suddenly Merlin felt awestruck, breathless at the sight before him. The stranger was so beautiful, so perfectly flushed, ruffled. He was losing control, Merlin could see it in the way his eyebrows drew down and his lips parted, in the way he couldn’t quite seem to catch his breath. Merlin wanted to capture this moment in a dozen paintings, a hundred. 

“That’s it,” he whispered. “Bring your arms up,” he said, stilling. “Here-” he helped him, moving his arms up over his head. “Yeah, that’s it. Now arch your back for me.”

“Pushy,” the stranger huffed out, almost like a laugh, but he did as he was told, following Merlin’s instructions just as he had that whole night, and he arched his back, crying out at the way he abruptly sank deeper on Merlin’s cock. Merlin shuddered against him. He felt so good, so hot and tight.

“Oh, fuck,” he managed, running his hands restlessly over Not-Tristan's chest and hips. “Look at you, you’re fucking perfect.” He wanted to remember this moment, this image, forever, tried to stamp it into his mind’s eye. 

The stranger shuddered at the praise and Merlin filed that away, just in case, for a later if they ever had one.

“Come on- _move_!” Not-Tristan moaned.

“No,” Merlin said. He needed a breath to get himself together, to try and calm down so this wouldn’t be over in a second.

The stranger’s eyes shot open in shock and Merlin grinned down at him. “I want to watch you struggle just a little longer,” he said, shocked at what was coming out of his own mouth but it was true, it was so true. The man was so adorably flushed, so hot as he shifted restlessly beneath Merlin. If they knew each other better, if they had the time, Merlin would tie him down so he’d be powerless against however Merlin wanted to pleasure him, for however long he felt like doing it. Hours, ages. Fuck.

He reached down to run his fingers over the head of the man’s cock and had to gasp and shut his eyes at the way Not-Tristan arched up into him, pulling Merlin deeper inside with each abrupt jerk of his hips. 

“Easy,” Merlin said, like it was that simple. He was burning up, completely lust-drunk, but he tried to keep it together, tried to stay in control for Not-Tristan.

He folded down over him and shook as Not-Tristan nearly sobbed with relief as he moved, sliding inside until his cock was nestled against his prostate and the man bucked up, angling for more.

“Like that?” Merlin muttered and aimed to repeat the motion without waiting for an answer. The stranger was writhing against him and Merlin knew he was doing this right, he was just there. The man’s moans and whimpers were loud in his ears and he was burning up, lost.

“Oh- Merlin, _please-_ Ah!” the stranger was gasping out, hands still obediently fisted in the blanket draping the couch above his head, thighs pushed as wide as they could go. Merlin rocked into him endlessly, firm and unhurried like he could do this all night, even though he was rapidly falling towards his release. 

The stranger was so responsive, so eager, so warm to his touch. Merlin was struck by a dirty thought as he moved inside him, found himself asking, “Do you you think you can come for me just like this?”

He didn’t think he imagined the way the other man shivered, had a feeling the answer was yes.

“Please,” Not-Tristan moaned, “I can’t wait, please-”  
  
“What do you want?” Merlin asked. “Tell me.”  
  
“Touch me,” he begged, and who was Merlin to deny a request like that? 

“Alright,” Merlin said and shifted his weight so he could reach down to close his hand around the stranger’s cock, shutting his eyes against the way he keened and arched towards him. 

“Ah- ah!” Not-Tristan cried out. “Merlin- please!” 

Merlin sped up and the other man whined and jerked against him, still having the presence of mind to hold on to the couch like he’d been told. He was so fucking perfect, so good, Merlin was still waiting to wake up. But no, this was real, this was undoubtedly real.

Not-Tristan came with a soundless gasp and Merlin tucked his face against his neck, thrusting into him restlessly as he chased his own release.

It didn’t take long, soon Merlin was shuddering into his damp skin, hips jerking a few more times before he stilled, breathing hard.

Slowly Merlin pulled out.

They lay slumped together for a few long moments, catching their breath before Merlin drew back to pull the condom off.

“I’ll get you a damp towel,” he said, something like awareness returning to him. What the fuck had he just done? Obviously a damp towel wouldn’t be quite enough to make up for this gigantic fuck-up but at least it couldn’t hurt. It was literally the least he could do.

“No, it’s fine,” Not-Tristan interrupted. “I’ll just go- I’ll just go clean up.” He stood on still-shaking legs and grabbed the heap of his clothes off the chair before going out into the hall. 

Shit. He wasn’t coming back, was he? Merlin’s eyes fell to the chair his clothes had been resting on, saw his wallet and keys and phone. He’d be back. Merlin wasn’t sure if that made him happy or scared. Definitely both.

He was suddenly too hot, burning up. The office felt stifling, did it reek of sex in here? He ran his hands through his hair and went over to the window wall, throwing open the sliding glass door to let in the cool night air. That was a little better, he thought as he took a few gulping breaths before fumbling through his desk for his cigarettes. 

The office door creaked open and Not-Tristan was back, dressed now and impossibly put together.

“Welcome back,” Merlin said. “Here,” he said, waving a little when he realized the stranger didn't see him over by the window. He nearly dropped his cigarettes when the man’s gaze fell on him, piercing and impossibly blue. “Come, I want to show you something,” Merlin said, trying to make this moment last just a little longer. He’d already gotten more than he’d ever bargained for, but he wanted to soak up Not-Tristan’s presence for as long as he could, file it away in his memory.

Not-Tristan walked closer and Merlin went out onto the balcony, knowing now that the man would follow.

“Look,” Merlin said, staring at the way the stars reflected off the surface of the lake. The cicadas were screaming up a storm and in the distance he could hear faint music, a frat party somewhere far away. A breeze ruffled his hair and he closed his eyes to enjoy it, listening to the soft murmur of the leaves, the creaking trees around them. “It’s a shame not too many people get a chance to enjoy this view.”

“Oh,” Not-Tristan breathed out.

“Do you mind if I smoke?” Merlin asked, hoping it would steady his nerves.

“No.”

“Would you like one?” Merlin offered as he lit his own cigarette.

Not-Tristan was silent for a moment but then he seemed to shrug. “Ok,” he said.

Merlin pulled another cigarette out of the pack, hesitated a little but then he smiled and slid it between Not-Tristan’s lips. “Careful,” he said as he brought up the flame of his lighter. 

Not-Tristan’s eyes widened a little, turning briefly gold as they reflected that small wavering light, and Merlin was worried that maybe this was too much, too far. But then again, the stranger could have left at any point he wanted but he’d stayed, and stayed, and stayed. Merlin knew he should say something, should ask him his name, at least.

The stranger finished his cigarette while Merlin was lost in his thoughts, and then the blonde looked up at him expectantly.

“Merlin,” he said, and Merlin wondered if he was finally going to fess up. 

“Yes?” Merlin asked, turning towards him.

Not-Tristan moved closer slowly, giving Merlin a chance to move away. The last thing Merlin wanted was to move away. 

He wrapped his hand around the back of Merlin’s neck, pulling him in for a kiss. It was a little awkward at first, but then Merlin relaxed and leaned closer, tilted his face into a better angle, shivering as he felt the other man’s arm wrap around his waist.

Not-Tristan pulled away at last, breathing hard as Merlin watched him, still a little shell-shocked. Wasn’t he going to _say_ anything? Merlin hoped so, because he had no words, no idea how to proceed in a situation like this. He pulled on his cigarette, stalling.

He could call the man’s bluff, but that didn’t seem right. They could keep this night, a little bubble of magic, a secret trapped between them. But Merlin wanted this again, needed it. He felt greedy as he opened his mouth and said- 

“Same time next week?”

“Yes,” Not-Tristan said before his eyes widened, surprised at himself. “I mean- I might need to check my schedule,”

“I’ll be here either way,” Merlin said and Not-Tristan blushed, pulling back.

“Ok,” he said. “I’d better- I’d better go.”

Merlin didn’t say anything else, just smiled and puffed on his cigarette.

Not-Tristan nodded a little in a semblance of a goodbye and then turned and left.

 _Fuck_.

 

***

 

“I’m not having this discussion again!” Arthur said, fighting to keep his voice down.

“Arthur, son,” Uther tried.

“Why would you think that would work on me?” Arthur hissed. He ran a hand through his hair nervously, glancing around. If he’d known where Uther was taking him he’d never have come, but his father had a way of steamrolling over him and now here he was, at some faculty art show. Merlin was faculty. Would he be here? Arthur didn’t see him, but somehow that made him even more nervous.

“Why are we even here?” Arthur demanded. “You hate the art department, and now you’re bringing me to an art show opening?”

“Have you never been to one of these?” Uther asked mildly. “They have free wine.”

“You can afford to buy your own wine,” Arthur muttered.

“It's not the same," Uther said before his attention wandered away. "Oh look, there’s that idiot now,” Uther said, glaring at a man across the room. The man had his back turned to Arthur as he talked to a beautiful dark-skinned woman who seemed a little flustered. Arthur narrowed his eyes suspiciously, was the back of his head familiar?

“Have you met the head of the art department?” Uther asked, walking over while Arthur trailed after him. “Professor-” 

The man’s shoulders tightened and he straightened up. He turned around and Arthur choked on his drink, eyes wide as he stared at Merlin.

Uther slapped him hard on the back and Arthur threw out a hand to stop him. “I’m fine,” he forced out.

He was sure his face was beet red, but any onlooker would have thought it was from his coughing fit, not from anything that might have happened days ago. It wasn’t like anyone _knew-_ well, he amended that thought as he noticed the way the woman was staring at him. Yeah, she definitely knew.

He was in deep shit.

If the cat hadn’t been out of the bag before, it definitely was now. He felt like he was about to pass out. Would Merlin call him out? Would he be angry that Arthur had- not lied, not exactly, but that he’d left out a big piece of the truth? How could he not be?

But Merlin just smiled warmly and stuck his hand out. “Merlin Emrys,” he said like they’d never met before. 

Arthur was lightheaded with relief as he reached out to take Merlin’s hand. “Arthur Pendragon."

Merlin jerked back a little and he felt his heart sinking. Yeah, he was definitely freaked out, and Arthur didn’t blame him. Merlin looked away and took a sip of wine cooly. He was pissed for sure. Fuck.

“You’d better watch out, Emrys,” Uther said. “Once my son is done with his audit, your department is finished.”

“Oh?” Merlin asked, looking back to Arthur’s face.

“I- I haven’t completed my review,” Arthur said, refusing to meet Merlin’s eyes. “But I can assure you,” he said, glaring daggers at his father, “that I’ll be making my own conclusions.”

“I’m sure you’ll know what to do once you look into the bloated sports budget,” Merlin said, and how he could be thinking about anything other than friday night in that moment, Arthur didn’t know.

“The sports program brings money _in_ ,” Uther growled, sparing Arthur from having to reply, “while you-” he raised his finger to point at Merlin’s chest, “only lose it.”

Merlin opened his mouth but Uther was already looking past him.

“Oh look, Arthur- there’s coach Agravaine now. Come, you should meet him.” Before anyone could protest Uther was walking away, holding Arthur by the upper arm. Arthur shook off the grip, annoyed, but followed anyway. It was just as well, he was sure Merlin wanted nothing more to do with him now. At least he could stop agonizing over whether or not to show up on friday, it had been all he could think about for days.

“Oh, Arthur?” he heard Merlin say. 

He paused, heart thudding as Uther walked off without him. He turned slowly, surprised to see the mischievous smirk playing over Merlin’s lips.

“I hope you’ve had a chance to check your schedule,” he murmured, voice low and warm. The way he ran his eyes down Arthur’s body had him flushing. He still wanted to see him, and that was- Arthur swayed a little on his feet. Wow. Ok. Yeah.

“Uh, yeah,” he said, and practically winced, running a hand through his hair nervously. How was Merlin so impossibly cool and he was sputtering like an idiot? “Yeah, I’ll- I’ll see you friday.”

Merlin’s smile widened into something like pure joy and Arthur smiled back, giving him a little nod before he walked away.

Arthur was still smiling like a lovestruck fool as his father introduced him to coach whatever. He didn’t hear a word, all he could think about was how much he couldn’t wait to see Merlin again.

 

_fin._

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr at [barbitone](http://barbitone.tumblr.com/) \- NSFW art at [barbitone-afterdark](https://barbitone-afterdark.tumblr.com/)


End file.
